


Live Long Alone

by marvelling



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:04:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marvelling/pseuds/marvelling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock prepares himself for the inevitable as an elderly Jim Kirk takes a turn for the worse.</p><p> </p><p>I'm sorry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Old Friends

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I'm sorry.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Spock paced the length of the floor to ceiling window overlooking the vast, serene looking fields which surrounded them, the clear blue sky stretching out infinitely before him as he patiently waited, as he did every morning, for Jim Kirk to wake. He stopped as he heard the man stir and let out a long shuddering breath. Slowly the captain’s marvelous blue eyes fluttered open. They searched the room for a moment, seeming disorientated and lost, until they settled on the Vulcan standing placidly with his hands clasped behind his back.

 

“Good morning Jim.” Spock said quietly, making his way over to the side of the man’s bed. He glanced fleetly up at the screens which monitored Jim’s vitals. “How are you feeling?”

 

The captain smiled brightly at the Vulcan. “Well enough, Spock,” he croaked.

 

“We do not have to-” Spock began.

 

“I don’t want to hear it, Spock.” Jim held up a trembling hand. “We’re going to see him and that’s that. He’d do the same for me.”

 

Spock nodded curtly. “I shall make necessary preparations.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“I must encourage you to attempt to eat some breakfast, Jim.”

 

Jim stifled an eyeroll. This was now the routine. Every morning Spock would try to get Jim to eat and Jim would manage a mouthful. “Of course you must.”

 

The Vulcan arched a pointed eyebrow and silently left the room. Jim shakily reached for the PADD on the bedside table. His vitals were all the same. He sighed and ran a hand through his white hair, already feeling the weight of the oncoming day pressing down on his chest making it more difficult than usual to breathe. The screen of the PADD went black and Jim caught sight of his reflection staring blankly back at him. He was disgusted by the shallow cheeks, sunken eyes and wrinkles that marred his once youthful and handsome face.

 

His head snapped up as Spock cleared his throat, making himself known.

 

“How long have you been there?” Jim forced a weak smile for the man that stood at the foot of his bed, a plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

 

“One minute, seventeen seconds,” the Vulcan answered.

 

“You’re still so quiet… unless my hearing has finally gone completely.” He chuckled, pressing a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm the coughs and wheezing that followed.

 

“Doctor Stephen has told you, your hearing is actually impeccable for a man of your age,” Spock reminded him gently as he placed the plate and water on the bedside tray.

 

“Ah. Well my memory is not,” Jim smiled, taking Spock’s outstretched hand as the Vulcan slowly pulled him into a sitting position, his other hand supporting Jim’s back before shifting the numerous pillows into position. Jim leaned back, gritting his teeth slightly. “Thank you, Spock.”

 

“You need not thank me, Jim, as I tell you each morning. It is why I am here.” Spock said softly, pulling the tray with the food in front of Jim.

 

“Really? I thought you were here for my five star conversation,” Jim muttered, frowning at the lone slice of barely buttered bread.

 

“That as well, t’hy’la.” Spock stood aside, observing Jim as he reluctantly picked at his food.

 

“Please sit down, Spock, you’re making me tired just looking at you standing there,” the captain grumbled.

 

The Vulcan sat on the worn leather armchair next to Jim’s bed, folding his hands in his lap.

 

“Can you not watch me eat?” Jim’s brow furrowed.

 

“But you are not eating, Jim.”

 

“I will if you stop watching.”

 

“Very well.” They both fell into a lengthy silence.

 

“I’m finished,” Jim sighed, sipping his water through a straw.

 

Spock arched an eyebrow at the barely touched bread, but said nothing. He suppressed the worry that knotted in his stomach. Jim was eating less and less each day. He would not last long at this rate.

 

“Doctor Stephen recommended that we take the oxygen cart with us today as she said you have been struggling to go any great distance without-”

 

“Alright,” the captain cut him off. “Why not take the damned cart and have everyone stare at me sympathetically like I’m a damned invalid and not make eye contact with you.”

 

“Jim,” Spock began softly. “You are an invalid.”

 

The captain turned his head to the Vulcan and glared at him. “You always know just what to say,” he drawled.

 

“I am detecting vindictive sarcasm.” Spock sounded vaguely bored.

 

“Forgive me if it angers me to see you stroll around each day with ease looking like a forty year old man beginning to grey with faint signs of aging haunting your face while I am stranded in this bed, my body failing me, leaving me crippled and pathetic!” Jim gushed, his liver spotted hands trembling more than usual. He did not miss the faint betraying twitch the Vulcan gave.

 

Spock looked away from Jim, focusing on the sky beyond the window, suppressing the urge to snap back at Jim. Spock had no right to be angry with him, his frustration was perfectly just.

 

“I’m sorry Spock,” Jim whispered.

 

“There is no need to apologise, t’hy’la. I understand perfectly.” Spock stood swiftly. “I will get your clothes.”

 

Jim squeezed his eyes shut and held his face in his hands, shaking his head. It was ridiculous to snap at Spock like that. It was no more his fault for _not_ aging than it was Jim’s _for_ aging, and Spock was suffering too. It was extremely difficult to see the person you love most in the universe waste away while you could do nothing but watch helplessly and hold their hand. Jim wondered how Spock would be once they were gone. He’d have no one. Eventually Scotty, Uhura and even Chekov would leave him. Spock would outlive them all. Jim was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt and sympathy. He didn’t want to leave Spock alone. He wished they had adopted a child, but Spock had said that he had no desire to raise a child that belonged to someone else and that having Jim was enough for him.

 

Spock cleared his throat.

 

“How long?”

 

“One minute, thirty-four seconds.”

 

“How do you calculate things so quickly?” Jim shook his head, laughter of disbelief racking his body.

 

“You have asked me this multiple times Jim and my reply has been constant from the first time I replied seventy six years ago.” Spock aided Jim in turning so that his pale, skinny legs hung over the edge of the bed.

 

“In short: you just can.”

 

“Yes, Jim; I just can.” Spock knelt to carefully remove Jim’s socks.

 

“I hate this,” the captain grumbled.

 

Spock stopped and stared up at the old man. “What do you hate?”

 

“You tending to me all the time, let me try dress myself.”

 

“You cannot, Jim. Please attempt to set your pride aside and accept that I am here to help you and do all that I can for you and I do not begrudge you that fact,” Spock resumed undressing Jim. “I have every faith that if our situations were reversed then you would do the exact same for me without hesitation.” He gazed earnestly at the captain.

 

Jim stared into the familiar dark eyes. Defeated, he sighed. “Of course I would.”

 

Spock nodded, a whisper of a smile playing at his lips.

 

“Once again, Spock old sport, you are right.”

 

“Surely you have grown accustomed to that fact.”

 

“A man can still hope.” Jim couldn’t suppress his grin.

 

“Hope what, t’hy’la?”

 

“That I’ll outsmart you yet.”

 

Spock stood and gazed fondly down on Jim. “I have no doubt that you will one day.” He hovered the wheelchair next to the bed and prepared to transfer the freshly dressed captain into it. “Are you ready?” Jim nodded.

 

Spock effortlessly scooped Jim into his arms and gently lowered him into the chair and stood back while Jim caught his breath.

 

“Not bad, old man,” he panted.

 

Spock arched an eyebrow and wheeled Jim into the bathroom. “You will manage?”

 

“Yes, thank you.”

 

“I will be out here.”

 

“Don’t listen.”

 

Spock stared impassively at Jim.

 

“Alright,” the captain nodded and closed the door.

 

Spock left him to it as he made the bed and put his pyjamas in the laundry basket. He resumed looking at the view of the city until he heard the bathroom door slide open behind him.

 

“Right,” Jim sighed. “I do believe I’m ready Mr. Spock.”

 

“I took the liberty to pick up some flowers this morning,” Spock told Jim as he attached the oxygen tank to the back of the wheelchair. “Would you like the oxygen now?”

 

“Thank you and no thank you,” he patted the hand which rested on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

 

“Would you like your beloved ‘old man hat’ Jim?” the Vulcan asked fondly.

 

“Oh yes. Wouldn’t dare leave without it!” Jim exclaimed.

 

Spock reached for the faded black fedora hat Jim had grown so attached to and placed it on his head.

 

“Thank you kind sir,” Jim sighed, adjusting the hat. “Ah I miss my fine head of hair.”

 

“You still have a surprising amount Jim.” Spock reminded him as they entered the elevator.

 

“But it’s not like the good old days!” He cried. “Remember Scotty would call me… what was it now, Spock?”

 

“James Tiberius Perfect Hair,” Spock supplied.

 

Jim chuckled. “Yes, yes, that was it. I remembered what it was, I just find it amusing when you say it.”

 

“I had my suspicions.”

 

They arrived on the ground floor of their home, passing photos which hung on the white walls: of the crew taken every Christmas they had worked together on the steps of Star Fleet HQ; of Spock and Jim with Sarek, Spock’s father, at their bonding ceremony; and one of Jim, Spock and Winona, Jim’s mother, also at the bonding ceremony; and there was one of the three musketeers: Kirk, Bones and Spock on the bridge of their beloved Enterprise who had been decommissioned many years ago and replaced with a newer, updated version. Kirk admired the photos as they made their way to the large oak front door.

 

Jim loved his home. He never thought he would be at peace on Earth. He thought he’d always be up in space, boldly going with his crew behind him, but he found that having somewhere just for himself and Spock was equally as special as the stars. They had memories in that house and it was solely theirs, it itself was a place no man had gone before and it was a place they clearly claimed as their own with their possessions and photographs. It was a home belonging to two men who never really felt they had one. It had been for at least forty years.

 

Jim had been in a daze and was startled to see the sleek black car pull up in front of him. Spock elegantly stepped out of the driver’s side and strolled around to lift Jim into the passenger’s side. The Vulcan did so with ease, his strength never faltering despite his ninety-odd years of age. Spock swiftly placed the wheelchair in the boot of the car and slid back into the driver’s side.

 

“You are certain that you wish to go, Jim?” Spock asked, his eyes unable to hide his concern.

 

“I’m in the car aren’t I?” Jim sat up straight. “We’ve got to go Spock.”

 

“Very well.” The Vulcan slid on black sunglasses before driving off.

 

“You’ll be taking those off. You look like my son,” the captain muttered.

 

“Hardly, Jim. We are a completely different species.”

 

“Grandson even,” Jim went on, ignoring Spock.

 

Spock stifled a sigh and concentrated on driving as Jim turned on the radio.

 

“What in the blazes is this?!” He cried. “Surely this isn’t classed as music?!”

 

“I believe it is.”

 

“This is terrible, Spock!” Jim furiously pressed the ‘off’ button, silencing the sound.

 

“I have found that all Earth music is terrible.”

 

“You think anything other than the lute is terrible,” Jim mumbled.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Silly little guitar is your most prized possession,” the captain muttered under his breath.

 

“It is not.”

 

“Damn your Vulcan hearing.” Jim shook his head, his brow furrowed. “What is then?”

 

“What is my most prized possession?” Spock asked, arching an inquisitive eyebrow.

 

“Yes.”

 

“I am many things, Jim. Sentimental is not one of them.” Spock mused. “However, if I had to choose one possession to hold most dear I would without hesitation choose this ring.” He held up his left hand baring his gold wedding band.

 

Jim beamed at Spock. “You’re a romantic old sap,” he mocked.

 

A faint smile tugged at the corners of the Vulcan’s mouth. He reached over and took Jim’s hand. “You are to blame.”

 

“No regrets,” Jim squeezed his hand, running his middle and forefingers down Spock’s own in a Vulcan kiss.

 

“None,” Spock agreed. They lapsed into a comfortable silence.

 

***

“Jim,” Spock said softly, placing a kiss at the captain’s temple. “We are here. Wake up, t’hy’la.”

 

The captain groggily opened his eyes and stretched a bit. “So we are,” he mumbled.

 

Spock got out and pulled the chair out of the trunk and brought it round to Jim’s door as the captain pushed it open and struggled to move his legs out of the car. “Jim please, allow me,” Spock offered his arm. Jim took it and leant on Spock, determined not to let anyone see how weak he was, although they didn’t have to see. They all knew. He landed in the chair with a huff. “Thank you Spock,” he breathed.

 

Spock removed his glasses and threw them in the car before closing the door and pushing Jim up the small hill to join the group. Scotty and Uhura were present with their daughter, Alexa, and Chekov stood solemnly with his wife. Sulu and his wife and son walked up just behind Kirk and Spock.

 

“Mr. Kirk! Mr. Spock!” Alexa gushed, rushing forward. “You’re looking very smart Mr. Kirk,” she smiled sweetly. “And you, Mr. Spock.” She leant into Jim, wrapping her arms around him as he did the same.

 

“Thank you for coming sweetheart,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You’re looking wonderful.”

 

Scotty stood behind his daughter, patting her on the shoulder. He shook Jim’s hand with the other. “Cap’n,” he sniffed. “Good tae see ye.” He shook Spock’s hand as well. “Mr. Spock.” Scotty frowned at the faint shaking of Spock’s head as a reply to his unasked question about Jim’s health.

 

Uhura was hugging Jim and remarking on the good weather as Sulu and Chekov greeted Spock. Once they had all said their hellos they gathered around the reason they were there, all in black.

 

“Spock, I want to stand.” Jim whispered. “Just while I say a few words.”

 

“No one will think any less of you if you sit, Jim.” Spock reminded him.

 

“I want to stand.” The captain repeated.

 

“He would advise against it,” Spock said softly.

 

“And I’d ignore him.”

 

Spock sighed and gave in. He held Jim up as he said his piece.

 

“Thank you all for coming,” he began, smiling at his crew and their families. “It’s wonderful to have the family back together even if it is under these circumstances. We’re here once again, on the fifth anniversary of the death of our friend Leonard McCoy. I don’t need to go into saying what an incredible man he was and how much he’s missed because we all know. We all know how amazing he was and that he is completely irreplaceable… and god knows we know how much he’s missed. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you Bones. I miss you yelling at me and I miss your damn metaphors. We all do. We all miss you…” he paused, a few tears rolling down his cheeks. “I know you’re looking out for all of us, wherever you are and have a feeling I’ll be seeing you soon, old friend. We love you Bones.” Jim sniffed and shuffled forward with Spock supporting his weight as he placed the bunch of white calla lilies and a bottle of scotch at the base of the good doctor’s marble gravestone. The captain kissed his fingertips and placed them against the cold rock. Spock placed his own hand against it, fingers spread in the Vulcan salute before returning Jim to his chair in the weeping circle of his family.


	2. Up There

After the short service the group relocated to a restaurant a short while away to catch up. As they drove Jim and Spock sat in silence, the Vulcan deep in thought and Jim curious as to what troubled him. The captain suspected it was the comment he had made about joining Bones soon in death, but he dared not mention it in case Spock had by some miracle missed it… who was Jim kidding? Spock didn’t miss a thing.

“Jim…” Spock began.

“Yes Spock?” he turned his head to get a better look at the man as he spoke, studying his placid face for any sign of emotion.

“When do you estimate your departure?” he asked casually.

“My ‘departure’?” Jim snorted. That was one way of saying it. “You mean my death?”

Spock swallowed and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Yes, Jim. I am referring to your death. You seem to have developed one of your famous ‘hunches’ that you will not be with me much longer.”

Jim frowned, his brows knitting together. “I don’t know, Spock. I just feel… I feel like…” the captain flailed his hands helplessly, unable to find the words. “Look, all I know is that I’m not getting any better.”

“You have not gotten any worse this past week,” Spock reminded him.

“Prolonging the inevitable,” Jim shrugged.

Spock eased the car into a parking space and unclipped his seatbelt, whipping off his sunglasses and turning to face Jim. “Forgive me for speaking so callously Jim, but it seems to me that you have given up hope that you will-”

“I’m not going to improve Spock, alright? You know that. I know that. Everyone else knows that. So there’s no point in pretending. It’s completely illogical, is it not?”

Spock did not reply. He simply exited the car and strode to the trunk to collect the wheelchair and then proceeded to aid Jim out of the car. The old man sighed and sagged in the chair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“For what, Jim?” Spock asked coldly, arching an eyebrow.

Jim felt the implied ‘For dying? For using logic against me? For being so selfish? For preparing to abandon me with such ease?’ “For everything,” he replied.

They entered the restaurant and joined the others at a large round table and enjoyed a lovely meal.

***

“Would you like to go to bed?” Spock asked as he and Jim arrived home.

“No, Spock. I’d like to talk.” Jim swore he saw Spock tense and clench his fists momentarily. “Perhaps over a game of chess?” he suggested.

“If you wish. I shall fetch the board.”

Jim was wheeled to sit at the wooden table on their back deck, gazing out at the beautiful scenery which he so often took for granted. The sky was beginning to turn purple above, the moon taking pride of place shining proudly high and centre, stars scattered around it. It was strange to think that he had spent the majority of his life amongst those stars and beyond, visiting ancient planets and discovering new ones all while in the company of his crew- his family.

“It is truly magnificent isn’t it?” Jim breathed.

“Yes Jim,” Spock said, his voice so soft it was barely audible. “You seem at peace t’hy’la.”

“It’s times like these when I don’t want to go, Spock,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“No one really wishes to die.” The Vulcan laid a hand on the captain’s shoulder.

Jim rested his hand atop Spock’s. “No,” he agreed. “I don’t suppose they do. Not deep down. There’s so much beauty in the world… so many special people we haven’t met yet… so much still unexplored.” Jim patted Spock’s hand. “Now. Right now. Chess, old friend.” He smiled up at his companion.

Spock shared a rare smile back at Jim. “That sounds exceptional, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to comment on characterisation, I appreciate any constructive criticism.  
> I find Spock quite difficult to do, but I've tried my best.  
> Hope you're enjoying it!  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Family

Jim moved his rook and watched Spock carefully calculate his own move. “Do you regret not having children, Spock?”

 

The Vulcan hid his surprise well as he moved his bishop down two levels. “No…” he paused, arching an eyebrow. “Do you?”

 

The captain assessed the board. Spock was winning again… He cautiously made his move. “Sometimes I wish we had someone to leave our legacy to…”

 

“Do you not think it would be difficult to live up to your name, Jim?”

 

“I lived up to my father’s did I not?”

 

“So you are suggesting that the ambitions of the whole Kirk family line would have been for the offspring living to outdo their predecessor?”

 

“No…” Jim chewed his lip. “Well yes.”

 

“It is irrelevant.” Spock swiftly moved his bishop again. “Check.”

 

Jim sighed. “Wouldn’t you have liked someone to be here for you… for when I’m gone?” Spock shifted ever so slightly in his chair. He seemed uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Are you alright Spock?” Jim asked, concerned.

 

The Vulcan closed his eyes momentarily. “The truth is Jim is that I would have very much liked to have had children with you-“

 

“Why didn’t you-“

 

Spock held up his hand, cutting him off. “Allow me to finish Jim,” he cleared his throat. “As I said: I would have very much liked to have children with you… with your DNA fused with mine… creating a child that was ours completely… but that was, and continues to be, impossible.”

 

“But why not have one which was at least biologically belonging to one of us?” Jim asked.

 

“I have already told you,” Spock was growing frustrated. “It is your move.”

 

Jim didn’t look at the board as he moved a random chess piece. “There. Now stop avoiding the subject.”

 

“I have already told you,” the Vulcan repeated.

 

“Elaborate,” Kirk commanded.

 

“I had no desire to have half a child. I wanted a child which was a product of both of our DNA. I am unable to make that any clearer Jim.”

 

“So you just decided not to bother at all.”

 

“We went through this at the time we discussed children. I do not know why you are bringing it up again.” Spock began gathering the chess pieces together. It was clear that the game was over.

 

Jim reached out for Spock’s hands. “Because I don’t want you to be alone.”

 

Spock stared impassively at the captain. “I accepted a long time ago that I would outlive you, Jim. I am prepared.”

 

“What do you mean you’re prepared?” Jim asked, dropping Spock’s hands.

 

“I intend to relocate to New Vulcan.”

 

Jim glared at the Vulcan. “When were you going to tell me this?” he snapped.

 

“When it became relevant, as it just did,” Spock replied nonchalantly.

 

Jim did not know how to respond. He sat motionless, staring at Spock, unable to believe what he was hearing. He was going to leave their house; their belongings; their friends; their memories.

 

“Did you expect me to sit alone in our house feeling your absence like a knife in my heart, twisting with every passing day?” Spock asked quietly. “Is that what you would prefer that I do?”

 

The captain swallowed against the lump in his throat, refusing to look at Spock. Of course he didn’t want him to be unhappy, but he didn’t want him to leave and forget all about Jim just to spare himself the pain. Jim knew he was being selfish and that he had no right to want Spock to remain on Earth when there was nothing here for him but pain and ghosts of his past… but was it really so much better on New Vulcan, where he would be forced to suppress every feeling he had and hide away from who he really was? Was it better to subject himself to a life without compassion from another? A life which would force him to bury his grief rather than confront it?

 

“Speak your mind, Jim.”

 

“That wouldn’t be wise.”

 

Spock frowned. He recalled a similar conversation between him and his father many years ago. “What is necessary is never unwise.”

 

Jim reluctantly brought his brilliant blue eyes to meet Spock’s brooding dark ones. “You’ll be no less alone on New Vulcan than here on Earth.”

 

Spock stood behind Jim and pushed his chair inside, silently bidding the peaceful night farewell. “I will be with Prime.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes and groaned. “You can’t live out your extremely lengthy life with yourself for company. Trust me, you’ll go mad.”

 

“I assume you are referring to me angering you throughout our life together?” Spock arched an eyebrow, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

 

“Damn right I am.”

 

Spock brought the wheelchair to a halt in their bedroom. He knelt in front of the captain, clasping the old man’s hands in his own. “I cannot stay here Jim,” he told him earnestly. “I must move on.”

 

“Why? Your family is here Spock.”

 

“If I stay Jim, I will not stay for long…” he brought the captain’s trembling hands to his lips. “You understand after all these years that when I experience a feeling as strong as grief, that I feel it so immensely that it begins to become me and without a distraction and without separating myself from instigators of painful memories I will lose control and ultimately I fear that I will take drastic action.”

 

Jim dragged in a ragged breath, tears burning his eyes. He furiously wished them away. “Vulcans are right,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Emotion is an illogical burden.”


	4. Never Ready

Spock rose earlier than usual the next morning. He was unsettled by the discussion of the night before. He had hoped he would never have to tell Jim about New Vulcan. As he silently dressed himself and planted a fleeting kiss on the captain’s forehead, Spock suddenly found it slightly difficult to breathe. He gazed down at Jim with his dark eyes, taking in the sight of the man’s age ridden face at peace in sleep. Jim felt no pain as he slept although every breath was a struggle. Spock listened intently to the ragged breathing, an intrusive and painful thought reminding him that one morning he may wake to silence.

 

The Vulcan straightened up and left the bedroom, walking briskly with his hands clasped behind his back, he headed for the garden. He halted in the exact centre of the large patch of grass and sat down cross legged. Here he would clear his mind and meditate for several hours, his eyes closed to the beauty of the dawning day before him.

 

***

“Mr. Spock.”

 

…

 

“Mr. Spock.”

 

…

 

“Earth to Spock!”

 

“I am meditating Doctor. Unless you have something of the utmost importance to tell me regarding Jim’s health I do not wish to converse with you.”

 

“The cancer has spread, Spock,” Doctor Stephen spoke matter-of-factly to the meditating Vulcan who did not open his eyes at her statement, let alone turn to face her.

 

“I was aware.” Spock spoke curtly.

 

“He wasn’t.”

 

“It is not my job to-“

 

“To upset him? No, you’d rather let me deal with the hard shit.”

 

“Doctor, please try to be professional.”

 

“No!” she snapped. “God dammit man! Will you at least have the common decency to look at me when I’m talking to you?!”

 

Spock rose swiftly and spun around to face the young woman. She reminded Spock so much of her father. He too had a way with words. Her long dark hair was scraped back into a casual ponytail and her blue eyes were alight with irritation.

 

“How long does he have?”

 

“Well you seem to know everything so why don’t you tell me?” she spoke with her hands positioned firmly on her hips.

 

“I calculate it being no more than three weeks at maximum.” Spock told her calmly.

 

Joanna swallowed, her throat closing up and her eyes burning. “Dammit,” she hissed, rocking on her heels. “It’s like losing dad all over again,” she slapped away a rogue tear. “You know it’s coming, but you’re never ready.” She shook her head, stubbornly refusing to let anymore tears escape. “I suppose you’ll be leaving the planet once he’s gone?”

 

Spock often admired Joanna’s perceptive mind. “Yes. I intend to relocate to New Vulcan.”

 

The doctor nodded. “So I’m losing you too.” She laughed. “It’s amazing.”

 

Spock arched a questioning eyebrow.

 

“I’m gonna miss you too.” She bit her lip, trying her hardest not to cry in front of Spock.

 

Spock dropped his gaze. It pained him to see Joanna so upset. “You mustn’t,” he said softly. “I will return on the anniversaries to pay my respects. Both Jim’s and your father’s.”

 

Doctor Stephen nodded again, staring up at the clear blue sky. “Sure,” she ran a hand across her face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there yesterday. I don’t like being there when everyone’s crying and being all emotional. I went alone at night.”

 

“I understand the feeling.” Spock’s lips twitched.

 

There was silence for a few moments.

 

“I envy you so much sometimes,” Joanna whispered.

 

Spock was puzzled. “Why?”

 

“I just do,” the doctor shrugged. “Sometimes I wish I had the option not to feel.”

 

Spock frowned. “I believe everyone does.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> brace yourself


	5. Broken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here we go

Joanna softly closed Jim’s bedroom door and joined Spock in the kitchen where he was preparing dinner for himself.

 

“Would you like anything, doctor?” The Vulcan asked, his back to her.

 

She struggled onto one of the tall stools at the breakfast bar and held her face in her hands. “A water would be great thanks,” she sighed.

 

Spock did not want to look at the doctor. Every day she emerged from the room, seeming to age a year every time. The Vulcan knew it would not be long before Jim passed. He hadn’t been out of bed in twelve days and he was now fed through a drip. Spock struggled to hold a conversation with the man, who was too weak to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time.

 

It was hard for Joanna to watch Jim deteriorate. She was close to the captain. He loved her like she was his own. She had only agreed to be his doctor because Spock practically begged. Doctor Stephen was the only one the Vulcan would trust to care for his Jim, regardless of the pain it would cause her.

 

“I don’t know if I can do it, Spock,” she whispered, taking the glass from him without meeting his gaze. “He’s going to go soon and I don’t know if I can be there when it happens. I don’t know if I can just sit by and-” her voice cracked.

 

Spock stiffened. After all these years, he was still uncomfortable with such a direct display of emotion. He was at a loss, unsure what to say to comfort her. For once he had no words. Nothing he could say would help.

 

After a few moments of deliberation, Spock finally spoke. “I don’t expect you to sit by him. I will be there for him when the time comes.”

 

Joanna cried silently, not expecting Spock to comfort her. She knew by now that he couldn’t, and wished she was as strong as he was. The doctor knew that he was hurting more than anyone; Jim was his life partner. Her husband had a friend who studied Vulcan history and culture and so understood how sacred and powerful bonds between mates were. She couldn’t begin to comprehend how Spock controlled his emotions as a part of him was torn away. She dried her eyes and stood.

 

“Thanks for the water. I’ll come by at the same time tomorrow.” She gathered her things and followed Spock to the door.

 

He paused for a beat before opening the door. “I do not believe we will require your care tomorrow, Joanna,” he said quietly, finally looking her in the eye.

 

The sadness she saw there broke her heart. She’d never seen Spock so overcome with grief. His eyes were entirely too human in an otherwise perfectly composed Vulcan face. She saw how broken he was by the fact that Jim was almost gone and she feared he would lose himself to the anger and despair. Instinctively, she reached out, grabbing his arm. She squeezed comfortingly.

 

“I’ll come by anyway Spock.” She told him, swallowing against the lump in her throat.

 

Spock clenched his jaw and nodded curtly, desperately clinging to his self-control with every fibre of his being. He was taken aback when the young woman drew him into a tight hug. He exhaled sharply, finding the contact surprisingly comforting and relieving. He eventually put his own hands around her and held her close.

 

“Thank you, Joanna,” he murmured. “Your father would be so proud of all you have accomplished and what a fine, strong woman you have become.”

 

She pulled back to look at the Vulcan. “Thanks, Spock… but don’t say goodbye to me yet. I’m not losing you right now too.”

 

The Vulcan stood back. “No. I will leave shortly after the funeral.”

 

The doctor bit her lip. “You’re sure this is what you want?”

 

“I am.” Spock stated firmly.

 

Joanna nodded. “See you tomorrow,” she waved as she headed to her car.

 

***

Spock joined Jim in his room after dinner. He sat in the comfortable armchair by his bed, staring out of the window, watching the daylight fade as the sun set behind the hills. He held Jim’s hand as he hummed an old Vulcan lullaby his mother used to sing to him.

 

“That- that’s lovely, Spock.” Jim’s voice was hoarse and faint but Spock heard him clearly.

 

The captain didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to see Spock’s face. To anyone else he would look mildly upset, or perhaps even slightly annoyed but to Jim’s perceptive eyes he would look crushed and tired. He’d look broken. His eyes would be dark with worry, his jaw set and his mouth set in a ridged line. Jim could feel the tension radiating from the Vulcan through their entwined hands.

 

Spock couldn’t speak. He focused all of his control on maintaining the melancholy tune, determined to keep his voice steady. He would not permit himself the luxury of expressing his emotion. He thought he had mastered control a long time ago, but apparently when it came to Jim he was all too human and vulnerable.

 

The tune finished and they were left with only the sound of Jim’s ragged breathing.

 

“You can let go, t’hy’la.” Spock said softly. “All is well.”

 

It took all of Jim’s energy to open his eyes and finally look at Spock. He was right. The Vulcan was devastated and his control was faltering. “I’ll let go if you will.” Jim challenged, a smile quivering on his lips.

 

“I do not want your final moments tarnished by my lack of restraint, Jim.”

 

The captain managed to squeeze the Vulcan’s hand. “In your times of alleged weakness, I’ve seen nothing but your strength, Spock,” Jim whispered. “After all these years, you still think showing emotion is something to be ashamed of…” he paused a moment, catching his breath. “But it’s not, t’hy’la. It’s not... It’s only human.” Jim smiled again, closing his eyes.

 

“The last time you said goodbye to me you asked me how I chose not to feel.” Spock reminded him.

 

Jim did not reply for a short while. His eyes finally opened again and he shook his head feebly. “I was scared then,” he explained. “I’m not scared now, Spock, and you shouldn’t be either… I’m ready.”

 

 “Then let go, t’hy’la.”

 

“I told you…” a cough racked his body, leaving the old man gasping for air.

 

“Please, Jim.” Spock caressed his face, smoothing his hair and kissing his forehead.

 

Jim gripped his hand, their fingers moved together in a Vulcan kiss.

 

It was that last kiss which broke Spock completely.

 

He let go.

 

“I love you, Spock.”

 

Jim let go.

 

“I love you, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put my iPod on shuffle when I write and a couple of songs really stuck out to me during this chapter.
> 
> Oblivion - Bastille  
> Sunburn - Ed Sheeran
> 
> If you haven't heard them you should go check them out cause they're great.
> 
> Hope you've enjoyed reading.


	6. Parting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to add this chapter, but I kind of wanted to give Spock some closure.

Jim joined Bones on the hill, looking out onto the vast landscape of fields and mountains. The night sky stretched out above them, the stars seemed to shine brighter than usual, as if they welcomed him to them once more.

 

Spock gazed up at them now, admiring the peace and stillness of the cold night. He sat down crossed legged in front of the grand headstone and meditated, saying his final goodbye to his t’hy’la. He would grieve no more for his loss. It was time to leave this world and start afresh in a new one, without Jim.

 

He clasped his hand around Jim’s gold wedding-band which hung on a chain around his neck, bringing it to his lips before tucking it away and rising to his feet.

 

“I have been, and always shall be, your friend,” he said softly. “Goodbye, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
